dizzying flash of lights, swirls of movements, sounds that were nothing more than crashing waterfalls and ringing bells. There were hands on me, lifting, carrying, digging into broken places—skin, bone, spirit. And then I was down, on something that might have been soft, but to my live-wire nerves, it might have been a bed of nails.
I struggled to open my swollen eyes. Vulnerable. I didn’t like being out of it, but I couldn’t bring my mind around yet. Over the raging whoosh in my ears, I heard Julien and Marco’s voices. They were close. It was their hands on me, wiping blood, sweat, grime. Adding bandages to the worst of my cuts. I hadn’t seen myself, but there was no way bandages were enough. My face split multiple times under Ishkov’s relentless hits. His knuckles were knives, so sharp and precise, they sliced through skin.
Someone trickled water into my mouth, wiped my eyes and forehead, slapped my cheeks a little to bring me around. This time when I tried, I got my eyes open. Julien and Marco were hovering over me.
“There he is, Sleeping Beauty finally rejoins the land of the living.” Julien’s words were light, but there was no humor behind them. He was pissed at me for the decision I’d made that had brought me to this moment.
“I’m good,” I grunted. “Help me sit up.”
Marco grabbed my hand, slowly pulling me upright. My ribs were on fire, but that was no surprise since I’d heard the crack as they’d broken.
“If you pass out, I’m not helping you up again,” Marco warned.
The world tilted from side to side. Once I was sitting, but after some slow breathing, it went steady again.
“I’m good. Just feel like I got run over by a truck.” As the fog lifted, I glanced around the room. “I’m ready to go.”
Julien put his hand on my shoulder. “No. Sit here. Make sure you’re not going to keel over the second you stand up.”
People came in and out of the room while I got my shit together. Before Julien was ready, I climbed to my feet, moving like an old, arthritic man. I tossed on a hoodie and pulled the hood over my head.
Outside, we started down the sidewalk to my truck, but Reno’s voice had us spinning back around. He came jogging up, a deep frown furrowing his brow as he looked me over.
He clapped me on the shoulder. I winced at the hard contact, but he didn’t notice. “You’re all right, man. Shake it off. You just made me a shitload of cash. A shitload. Are you sure you want to retire?”
A whip lashed at my forehead. “Never been more sure of anything.”
That was what tonight had been about. Reno wasn’t happy with me, but I hadn’t given him a choice. Let me walk from the business, or I’d walk from him, and it wouldn’t be pretty. Not that allowing myself to be beat to shreds was pretty. It sure as hell wasn’t, but it was Reno’s price, and I’d paid it in blood.
He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “So serious. Always so serious, my baby brother.”
I grunted. “This is it, Reno. The last time.”
He rose to his feet, holding his hands up. “All right, all right. I heard you. You’re straight as an arrow. You’ve told me enough times over the last two weeks. Pussying out on me for a girl.” He scoffed, running his hand over his mouth. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
A girl.
More fog lifted. Her face came back to me. It was only a split second, and I still wondered if she’d been a vision. But no, if I was going to imagine Zadie, she’d be smiling at me, not gazing at me like she’d finally seen beneath my veil and the monster had been revealed.
“What was Zadie doing here tonight?”
I didn’t know who I was asking. The fucking universe? Was I living in a cosmic joke? It felt like it. I’d spent two weeks extracting myself from every strand of my part in Reno’s business, and it was all supposed to culminate tonight. Then I was going to go to her. Tell her it was over, and she was mine.
“I don’t know, man,” Julien said. “I saw her while you were in the ring. I tried to get her to go, but she wouldn’t.”
Reno busted out with a deep chuckle. “Oh shit, the girl you were getting out for, the one who can’t stand violence, she was here tonight?” He slapped his leg, laughing harder. “What the fuck are the chances?”
“Slim,” I mumbled. “Who told her about the fight?”
There was no way she showed up here by chance. She’d avoided me like the plague on campus. Twice I’d seen her, and both times, she’d fled as soon as we’d made eye contact. Both times, it had taken everything in my power not to chase her down and fuck some sense into her. Because nothing about being apart from Zadie made any damn sense. She had to know that. She had to see it.
Reno patted his chest. “You know it wasn’t me. It’s fucking poetic, though. You think she’s gonna take you back now, brother?” He laughed like this was a joke. Like I’d just paid in blood for some shits and giggles.
“That isn’t helpful,” Julien barked.
Reno’s grin fell away. He really didn’t have a sense of humor. The dude only laughed at his own jokes.
“Are you trying to say something?” He took a step toward Julien. I moved into his path, teetering on the edge of the sidewalk. “Move, Amir. I’m talking to your funny friend. He says I’m not helpful. Not fucking helpful, when I practically raised you, gave you a job, helped you buy the house his pussy ass lives in.”
Julien ground his teeth behind me. He didn’t think much of Reno. Neither did Marco. But Marco could keep his mouth shut when he needed to. Julien hadn’t mastered that skill yet.
“You don’t need to talk to him,” I said. “We need to go home. I’m barely standing here. I’m toast, man.”
“Whose fault is that?” Julien couldn’t fucking help himself.
Reno’s body went taut. He started to reach into his jacket pocket when bright lights coming way too fast down the street caught everyone’s attention.
“Oh shit.”
Almost as soon as the truck came into sight, it veered onto the sidewalk, heading straight toward us. Reno dove away, Marco made a run for it, but I could not get my body to move. And then it was too late. Even if I moved, I couldn’t avoid being hit.
It happened in a blink, but I managed to have a million thoughts.
Zadie was nine hundred ninety-nine thousand of them. Her face, her sweet smile, her scent, her laughter while she danced in the rain, her pouty lips, her kindness, her love. She was my last thought before I went flying and searing pain in my side took over all my synapses, leaving no room for thought or memories.
And then it was chaos. A crash. A thump. A wet smack. Squealing tires. Broken glass. Screams. Fucking gut-wrenching screams.
I crawled across the sidewalk, clutching my ribs. Marco was there, ahead, in the middle of the street. Where was Julien? Where was he? He’d been behind me, hadn’t he?
“Julien?” I croaked. Nothing louder would come out of me. I couldn’t get my lungs to fill. But I kept crawling, crawling, needing to get to Marco. He had to know where Julien was.
Reno ran past me, to the truck that had crashed into a light pole barely half a block away. A few of his guys were behind him, barking words my ringing ears couldn’t register.
But Marco…he was crouched over something, his phone to his ear. What was Marco looking at? Where the fuck was Julien?
“I need an ambulance. Someone’s been hit by a truck. He’s hurt. Really hurt. You gotta get here now. There’s a lot of blood. He’s not moving.” Marco was talking to someone on his phone. Who was hurt? It’s just been the four of us. I was hurt, but I didn’t need an ambulance. I just needed to find Julien.
“Julien?” Where are you?
Marco raised his head, and then shook it. “I don’t know if he’s gonna make it.” He clawed at the sides of his hair. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I should touch him.”
I made it to him, and at first, I couldn’t understand what I was seeing. It was Julien on the pavement, but it wasn’t. Because Julien was fine. He was on the sidewalk. This Julien was broken, bent wrong, his face flayed open on one side. And the blood, it was every-fucking-where.
“Julien?” Where’s the real Julien?
Marco was shaking, his hands hovering over the man on the ground. “He pushed you out of the way. Why didn’t he go with you? He pushed you, but he just stood there. He could have dove with you. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He’s not going to die. He can’t.”
This couldn’t be Julien. Not my friend, my brother. He always landed on his feet. He fell, he bounced. That was what we always said. He was impervious to damage. That was why this couldn’t be Julien. Fucking Julien.
But it was. It was, it was, it was.
That was Julien’s blood soaking the ground. Julien’s shoes on the other side of the street. Julien dying on the gritty street.
Fucking Julien.
